Sweetener
by Forget-Me-Not FanFics
Summary: DOCTOR Oobleck hates being late, perhaps theirs a reason why he adopted this ideal? Doctor Dr. Bartholomew Oobleck / Oc OFC RWBY Fluffy, Short, Sweet [First chapter is stand alone, additional chapters were written due to popular demand]
1. Sweetener

(A/N: It's short, sweet, and cute.)

 **Sweetener**

DOCTOR Oobleck was currently lecturing his students when an unnoticed addition was made to the class. As he wrote on his rarely used chalkboard, flurries of white dust circling his hand, a young woman with soft pink hair sat up from her hiding place underneath a recently empty desk. Pulling a small hook and string from her pocket, she tied the sturdy string around the hook's provided loop. Ensuring the integrity of the casting material with a strong tug, she cast her eyes on the prize, a coffee mug in the firm, but unsuspecting, grip of her former classmate.

Students who noticed the huntress' entrance were now elbowing their less perceptive neighbors and pointing out the curly, short-haired woman. As she spun the little tool around her fingers, she worked up speed before releasing it. Oobleck shuffled to the right with his back still to the audience, as predicted, and the hook sailed through the air, wrapped around the handle of his cup, secured itself to the other end of the rope, and was pulled taut as the huntress yanked the coffee away from the doctor's grip. Before it could reach her hands however, the tenacious man had caught it a mere inch from her awaiting grasp as he stood atop the desk just before her. With the rapid change in movement, it was only natural for some of the coffee to spill out of the mug, but since the container was basically empty, it was a marginal amount. The coffee assailant opened her mouth to catch the spot of bitter liquid in her mouth as Oobleck glared at her.

"Bleck, not enough sugar." The woman attempted to drop a cube of the substance inside the caffeine addict's coffee only to have him move the mug out of the way far before it fell even half a centimeter.

"Miss Peppermint, I had not expected a visit from my old… classmate." Oobleck darted his coffee away once more after a second attempt at sweetening the brew. "To what do I owe the honor." Deciding it was better not to risk a spoiled mug, the Doctor downed the last of his drink, lowering the ceramic cup to see the pink haired woman slightly upset.

"Well doc," Peppermint began to stand up, her cropped pink tank top, minimalistic shoulder and chest armor, and fluffy pink and white striped combat skirt now visible to those farther away. "I just finished a long and intense mission. So, I came over to Beacon to see if my old buddy was still up to his boring lectures. Since I've been in such dire circumstances recently and sleep has become hard to procure, I figured a good, dull rant would help me drift off." You could count the eyeballs in the room they opened so wide.

As Oobleck prepared a retort, the woman leaped up, placing her hand on the man's crown as she flipped in the air, effectively shoving his head into a wooden desk. Yanking another sugar cube out of her skirt pocket while in midair, the huntress threw the tiny object with as much force as she could muster, targeting it at the open thermos Oobleck had resting on his desk. After it began to sail through the air, she saw her old friend's blue eyes shimmer in anger. As the doctor darted toward the container, she pulled out her weapon, lovingly named Spearmint, and thrust the chain tethered lance in his direction. The teacher was easily able to dodge the projectile by taking a step backwards, until she pressed a button on her end of the chain, thus causing the entire lace to flare out into a five foot diameter dish. Pulling the weapon back toward her, the doctor was unwittingly shoved in her direction when caught in the concave part of the disc, giving the sugar cube enough time to contaminate his coffee.

It was 'the plop heard round the classroom' when the lump of sweetener made contact with the otherwise black coffee. Pressing the button once more, the green and white swirled dome closed upon itself and the chain retracted into the base of the now simple shaped lance. Oobleck stood completely still as the huntress strode over to his desk, her metal enforced pink zip up boots clicking on the ground as the crowd watched her exposed legs move with confidence. Picking up the doctor's prized thermos, she took a long sip of the sweetened coffee. While the students leaned forward, expecting her to jitter around the classroom in a similar manner as their teacher, she merely sighed serenely and replaced the thermos on Oobleck's desk. "Just like you always made for me, right Bartholomew?" Her hand ran along the top of his cluttered desk as she made her way around the rectangular bit of wood, her bright yellow eyes locked onto his deep blue ones as he scowled at her.

"After you're done here, meet me at that coffee place you love so much." Peppermint glanced back at the paper cups haphazardly placed around the classroom to confirm his café of choice; yup the man hadn't changed a bit. "And this time, don't be late, okay?" Tugging on the man's tie, she kissed his check before striding out of the room with Spearmint now secured to her back.

((A/N: I thought it was cute~ I like to think (in my own weird verse) that Oobleck doesn't like being late for some reason other than just adopting the ideal. Like, he was late for a date once, and the girl wouldn't stop reminding him of it, even if it was meant to tease. Please leave a comment if you so desire, I love to read them~.))


	2. Coffee?

(A/N: I'd say a second chapter is a tad overdue.)

 **Coffee?**

* _6 Years Ago_ *

It wasn't often that two teams from the same kingdom faced one another in the Vytal Festival, however this was one of those rare occurrences. It was a four versus four team battle pinning second years from Beacon against third years from the same academy.

Team SWDP was in a pinch, down to a final combatant while their seniors, OBSD, had two remaining.

A pink cloud of hair and similarly bright attire didn't give the sole second year any advantage in the plains and marsh biome the match was set in. However, she certainly preferred soil to thick mud and stuck to the grassy terrain.

Peppermint was a long range fighter by nature. Spearmint, being a rather bulky lance, was not a weapon you typically use in close combat. It worked best against Grimm, when she could pierce their bodies with the lance portion of Spearmint, open the dish to prevent them from yanking it out, and thrash the beasts against nearby trees or boulders with the aid of her semblance.

In short, the huntress in training wasn't used to playing nice.

Currently, the weapon was held in her right hand, occasionally being brought up to counter blows from Dravite's serrated sword or flared open to deflect an onslaught of flames from her second opponent. Peppermint could spin on a dime and block attacks with the accuracy that comes with both rigorous training and natural talent.

The huntsmen in training before her were strong, to the point she had used more than a fair amount of her aura to absorb the hefty blows. Peppermint's yellow eyes flashed to the status screen for an instant. She wasn't running on fumes just yet.

When the faunus lunged at her again, she utilized her semblance. Ducking out of the way of the attack by bending one knee and keeping the other leg outstretched to her side, Peppermint spun on the toe she crouched on. The metal tipped boot of her extended leg jammed the student in his abdomen with the momentum of a thirty pound limb rotating at a speed of over one thousand rotations per minute. The tall grass around her bent without breaking, creating a perfect circle around her spinning form.

The aspiring huntress reveled in the accompanying dizzy sensation brought about by her semblance. Combat skirt rising up while she spun, her grin widening with childish glee.

The ferret faunus was launched toward a tree in the marsh biome and grunted upon impact before falling face first into the mud, making her snort and the crowds guffaw.

Thoroughly pleased, Peppermint forgot about her second opponent until a beige beam was pressed against her throat by the upperclassman who'd come up from behind her. The warm metal trapped her against the chest of the attacker, her airway obstructed by the pressure. Before Peppermint could spin around to push herself away, she was lifted up, her chin resting on the metal and legs dangling five inches above the battleground

Her earlier opponent now rose up, anger evident on his mud covered face as he stalked toward them. Dravite's near black eyes were far from friendly, and the small, twitching ears amidst his short, caramel hair solidified his annoyance. Raising the sword to point it at her exposed belly, he held it a few inches away, effectively pinning her to end the match.

The taller opponent behind Peppermint began to lower his weapon so she was no longer being choked. He did so believing that she wouldn't be idiotic enough to fight with a large sword so close to her vital organs.

However, an oxygen deprived, scared, and ferocious huntress in training was not always logical. So before the buzzer sounded to end the fight, the metal tips of her right shoe grazed the ground, and the final member of team Snowdrop spun in a last ditch effort to escape.

The sword held to Peppermint's abdomen was immobile, merely a threat of what could happen if she tried to fight. But when her semblance was activated and she began spinning, the originally harmless blade slashed through her forearm like butter. The last of her aura rushed to the now exposed radius to prevent the weapon from splitting her bone in two and practically dismembering her forearm. With a final burst of the minimal aura, the sword was pushed out of the way of the rotating Beacon student to prevent further harm.

The speed of her actions made the injury occur almost instantaneously.

Now she spun between the remaining members of team Obsidian, blood escaping from the gaping wound and split artery with assistance of centrifugal force. Her opponents now splattered with the red, sticky, substance, the crowd screamed..

The restricting bar was removed from her throat and Peppermint jumped out of the way, prepared for another round with the capable duo despite her exhaustion. Then she saw a look of concern on her taller opponent's face, his dorky safari gear stained red. Dravite also dropped his sword, all visible signs of fury wiped away instantly.

Curious about the origin of the blood, her eyes ran over either opponent for an injury. Finding none, she looked down at herself. Her arm was badly gashed and drenched in blood, the white of her bone visible beneath the split muscle and parted flesh.

Before any sound could escape her lips, Bartholomew was at her side, his hands holding the halves of flesh together as he called for a medic. Her legs started to fail as she stared at the injury.

She felt dizzy, and not the good kind.

"Peppermint." Bartholomew called out to her. She looked at his clouded lenses, now dotted with flecks of blood. Noticing his classmate's trembling increase, the history nerd took off his glasses and carelessly tossed them onto the grass. "You're going to be fine." He reassured her, his determined blue eyes locked onto her bright yellow ones. The rush of adrenaline had yet to fade, and Peppermint could only obsess over the slight pain which would soon consume her. Slowly shifting her gaze toward the injury, Bartholomew stopped her. "Hey, Peppermint Kierre. How would you like to go out for coffee sometime?"

That got her attention.

"With you?" The underclassmen scoffed like she always did when he asked her. "What coffee shop could possibly live up to our standards?" Peppermint's shaking dampened with the familiarity of their usual debate.

"You'll drink anything as long as it's sugary enough." He said with ease, vamping for time while the medics made their way into the center stage area. "I counted twelve sugar packets going into one perfectly good mug of coffee at our last outing."

"At least my drink has water in it, you basically eat ground up coffee beans." She retorted, voice still wavering. "Like a caffeine addicted squirrel." The aspiring huntress grinned cheekily at the analogy.

Medics were on stage now. Mere seconds remained until Peppermint would be on a stretcher and headed toward proper care. "Then why do you always steal my coffee?" Bartholomew asked, curious of her reasoning behind the now common event.

"Because I can." Peppermint's smile grew. "And you never let anyone else drink it."

(A/N: Thank you for all the positive reviews, I hope this provides the backstory you craved~. I will probably continue, but I like to polish these chapters before publishing since they're so short. Don't worry, the next one won't take as long. As always, reviews are appreciated~)


	3. Withdrawal

(A/N: Before you try and figure out what order these segments are released it, let me tell you: there is no order. It's chaotic, but ordering them chronologically would turn this into a story. And it's not. It's a collection of moments. Also, Peppermint is 5'6")

 **Withdrawal**

* _7 years ago_ *

Despite it being past midnight, all across Beacon Academy, students had their noses tucked into books, were borrowing each other's notes, and guzzling anything caffeinated within sight. A freshman with a fondness for pink was currently on her own search for a fix of caffeine in whatever form she could find. While the student once possessed a perfectly stocked mini fridge filled with an array of milk tea, its contents had vanished over the last eight hours and now the empty plastic cups littered the insides of trashcans alongside colorful, thick straws.

After scouting out the entire school, Peppermint discovered that all the soda machines had been emptied, complimentary tea bags swiped, and coffee drunk by earlier students scavenging for something to help keep them awake. The aspiring huntress had only one place left to check: an old workshop where staff and students alike tended to weapon repairs and maintenance.

"You can't be out of coffee!" Peppermint confronted the last remaining machine on campus which distributed the precious substance. "Finals are tomorrow," she rapidly tapped the 'dispense' button like a madman, hoping even a spot of the substance would drip into her awaiting, oversized mug. Toggling between functions, she was ready to settle for decaf if it was all that remained.

After pleading to whatever deity would listen, the student closed her eyes and pushed the button firmly, hoping for something to spill from the tap.

Nothing did.

Sighing, Peppermint fell to her knees. "Of all the days," she mumbled, letting her forehead rest against the base of the machine. Not minding the sensation of a stray bolt digging into her left shin, she merely inhaled the faint trace of spilt coffee on the floor from some lucky student who'd managed to overflow their cup with the beverage.

After feeling a whoosh of air from behind her alongside a medley of noises emanate from a work table, the aspiring huntress was acknowledged. "Hey, are you a first year?" A fast talking individual questioned Peppermint from behind, apparently having noticed her one-man pity party.

Not yet turning around, she responded, "yeah, that's me. Peppermint Kierre." The huntress in training lazily waved her hand in greeting, expecting snide comments from a seasoned upperclassmen on her attire. She was donning a pair of pink pajama shorts and a large, white hoodie with pink and white striped sleeves. Her thick cloud of curly hair was a mess, pinned back by an array of colorful clips so the strands didn't bother her when she tilted her head down to study. However, the lower halves of her legs were still concealed by pink combat shoes and the silver colored armor which surrounded them.

But the other student wasn't fixated on her appearance, instead he focused on where she was situated in the room. "Figures, otherwise you would know these machines are always out around finals. You'll have to go to Vale for a cup of decent coffee." The second year informed her. "And the last shuttle departed over five hours ago." He referred to his scroll to ensure the information was accurate.

"But I need one." Peppermint stared up at the brightly lit machine. "I have a history exam I need to cram for and coffee is a must." She gripped her empty mug tightly, staring at the cute pig painted on the bottom of the cup.

"Interesting." The upperclassman noted, having finished the task he was performing.

"What? That I haven't died from withdrawal yet?" Peppermint turned to face him and flicked the stray bolt away so she could sit. Her back now resting against the machine, the student was determined to wait until someone added another bag, even if she did need to wait for hours.

The first note Peppermint made about Bartholomew was how tall he was. The younger student had to crane her neck up to look at his opaque lenses from where she was on the floor. Then there was his clothing. The black jacket of his uniform was opened, he'd ditched the blue vest, the buttons of his dress shirt were misaligned, and the tie was horribly crooked, uneven, and its knot loose. His hair was also rather messy, it looked as if he'd been running his fingers through it all day.

"No, the coincidence of our meeting. I just came here to top off the fuel for my weapon as I'd neglected to do so this morning." He adjusted his glasses. "However, I'm also a history buff. I've aced every class on the subject so far and even help grade papers." Bartholomew relayed his background with confidence, certain the underclassman would applaud his capabilities.

"I'm not looking for handouts," Peppermint huffed. "You don't need to give me a good grade, I'll earn my own." Nuzzling against the soft interior of her hoodie, she prepared for a long wait by pulling out her scroll to study the notes she'd photographed before lending the hard copies to Durian.

Bartholomew was taken aback. "I'm not offering to commit academic fraud, I'll help you study." He straightened his tie as best he could, attempting to maintain a professional air. The aspiring huntsman thought himself a splendid tutor, especially considering how often his teammates would ask for his assistance with their homework and study schedules. The student also figured reviewing old material in this way would help cement it further into his brain.

"What about your finals?" Her head tilted to the side, skeptical about the reasoning behind this generosity. Even Wisteria wasn't offering to help her tonight, considering how pivotal a time it was.

"I finished studying for them a few days ago. I'm all set." He stated the fact in a humble manner.

"So you're offering to help me." Peppermint was still confused. "Why?"

Bartholomew took notice of the way she gripped her mug, recalling when he was in a similar position only last year. He'd never gone so long without coffee and the headaches were not pleasant when he was in the midst of his exams. "Well," he paused to raise his thermos. "I have to help a fellow addict."

She instantly stood up and darted toward him. "You have coffee?" Peppermint adapted the tone of someone betrayed, taking in a whiff of the strong beverage when he unscrewed the cap.

Bartholomew nodded. "A coffee maker, a fresh pot, and three bags of grounds in my room. You are welcome to help yourself so long as you study while you're there." He then shook the green container slightly, implying she take some.

"You're a legend." Peppermint mumbled, carefully tilting his thermos so some of the piping hot brew filled her own mug. Reaching inside her pocket, the caffeine deprived student pulled out several packets of sugar she'd almost succumbed to eating and added them to the drink without a second thought.

"Not yet. Right now I'm Bartholomew Oobleck, history lover and coffee enthusiast. But one day, yes, I will be fondly remembered in nonfictional and educational books." He put the cap back on after taking a quick swig, not minding the scalding temperature.

Peppermint let the heat of the beverage warm her face as she held it under her nose, inhaling the aroma. "I'll write one about you myself if that stuff is as good as it smells."

He merely smirked. "Well, I hope you remember to write more about me than my superior taste in coffee." The caffeine addicted duo began walking down the hall.

"That remains to be determined, as you've yet to present any more redeeming qualities." She commented, her heels clicking on the floor.

"Then we certainly have much to discuss." He replied.

Peppermint took a sip and sighed. The coffee was beyond delicious and her eyes drifted shut as she savored the feeling of the hot beverage warm her insides. "Indeed."


	4. Midnight Meet-up

**Midnight Meet-up**

* _7 years ago_ *

Peppermint knocked on his door wearing the same pajamas she did the day they met over three months ago. However, her hair wasn't a birds nest of knots and hair clips today. Instead she'd brushed it into a nice, cotton-candy-esque cloud before heading up the flight of stairs and across the hall to team OBSD's dorm. "Peppermint?" Her intended company answered the door wearing green pajama bottoms and an old white shirt that had been downgraded to sleepwear after enduring so many coffee stains. His glasses were also a bit askew, but he straightened them upon seeing her.

"Hey." Said student lifted up a grocery bag filled with sealed milk tea drinks, tins of cookies, and two bags of coffee. "Can I spend the night? My crew is in the middle of a long spat revolving around whether or not copying homework is considered helping or enabling and my contributions to the fight were not considered helpful. Plus I have an exam to make up in the morning and Wisteria insisted I go someplace quieter to get some rest." She shrugged in her fluffy hoodie.

"That isn't up to me, I'd have to ask my team members before-" Bartholomew was cut of.

"Peppermint, did you bring the ginger cookies or the chocolate chip?" Ochre, the team leader, asked from where he lounged on the bed. His muted orange hair was out of it's usual short ponytail and instead rested just on the top of his shoulders. Unlike Bartholomew, he slept shirtless.

Knowing packing the treats would land her on his good side, Peppermint responded, "chocolate chip." Reaching into the plastic bag, she tossed the tin over to the huntsman in training. "And coconut macaroons for you two." She then chucked the second tin at the female Kupine twin. Her black eyes snapped open and she swiped the tin out of the air and pulled it under the covers with her.

"Dravite is on a date with his girlfriend in Vale, these cookies are mine." She mumbled, her sharp teeth plainly visible while she spoke. Turning around to resume her nap, only her short crop of black hair was left visible to the room. "You're fine by me." The ferret faunus consented to her staying.

"Me too." Ochre commented after confirming the cookies were decent.

Peppermint looked expectedly at Bartholomew who opened the door wider to allow her in. The room was a mash of themes, one corner had a mattress on the floor and off its frame, apparently Dravite stumped his toe on it again, resulting in the splintered pile of wood in the corner. Schorl's bed was a mess: clothes, ammunition, and papers all occupying the covers that the aspiring huntress was sleeping under. Ochre's was more or less ordinary, the team leader munching on cookies as his legs hung over the edge of his bed. And then there was Bartholomew's. His bed was aside a wall of cork that he'd tacked countless papers to. "Have you woken up with a tack in your back yet?" Peppermint asked the question for the third time, still expecting it to have happened.

"No." He said simply, looking around. "I can't fathom where you can sleep." The bespectacled student started to survey the room.

She pulled out a blanket and lay it on the floor. "What kind of huntress can't sleep on the floor? I'll be fine Bartholomew." Peppermint plopped down on the blanket, not minding when the hoodie lifted up a bit to reveal her lower back to the other students in the room. More than that was revealed in her usual fighting outfit. Turning her head a bit, she looked under Bartholomew's bed and grinned, all his boots were organized by height and color. Although he was sloppy in most areas, his school uniform askew, notes a mess, and bed ruffled, he took being a huntsman seriously. His pack was always resting by the foot of his bed, his thermos topped off daily with fuel, and his combat uniform always in top shape.

"Did you get me thai milk tea again?" He asked, looking between the rose milk tea and the one in question.

"Choose one or the other, I ordered both without tapioca pearls, just the way you like it." She waved her hand, not having a preference herself.

"Then you take the thai milk tea, I don't want an orange tongue." He tossed the sealed drink to Peppermint as well as a straw.

Sitting up cross legged, she popped the seal and took a small sip. Slowly the huntress' grin grew as she savored the flavor. "Yum." The girl spoke to herself after swallowing.

"There are rose petals in this drink?" Bartholomew commented after one slid through the straw and into his mouth. "Why would they do that?" He removed the petal from his tongue and stared at in disgust.

"It's rose milk tea," Peppermint rolled her eyes. "That's part of the appeal. If you don't like it we can swap." She offered him the orange drink. "And I won't make fun of your tongue when it turns orange."

"You've already taken a sip." He gestured to the plastic straw.

"So did you, you'll still have the same level of drink." She offered the beverage again.

"Yes, but." He was unsure how to phrase it.

"Mewmew doesn't want to indirectly kiss you." Schorl commented from the messy bed, utilizing Bartholomew's hated nickname. "He refuses to share his thermos for that same reason. Hasn't kissed as girl yet."

"Oh." Peppermint saw that Bartholomew looked embarrassed and angry with his teammate. "Then how about this," she removed her straw. "We swap drinks, not straws." This clearly wasn't something to tease him about.

He seemed relieved Peppermint didn't poke him, and nodded, swapping drinks with her. As soon as he had a mouthful of the beverage though, Peppermint commented, "If you want to _directly_ kiss me Mewmew, all you need to do is ask," a coy smile appeared on her lips.

He sputtered, the orange tinted drink spraying from his mouth and onto her blanket and jacket. All Peppermint did was laugh alongside his teammates as he tried to formulate a coherent response.

(A/N: I love the nickname "Mewmew". So much. It's perfect and cute. Can you picture someone calling him that rather than Doctor Oobleck? He already hates being downgraded to Professor, imagine a cutesy nickname like Mewmew)


End file.
